Chapter Text
The first rays of sunlight were starting to peek from the window, but Ferb couldn't go back to sleep. His mind kept running laps, leaving him restless and exhausted from all the mental work.
Ferb was utterly confused, which doesn’t happen very often. If anything, he’s the one usually explaining social cues to his brother. But this was a touchy subject between them, one he can’t bring up because Phineas always shuts him down or changes the subject.
Not talking much—even though he talked more now—is great for self introspection. Ferb likes his own little world inside his head, his inner voice always having a conversation with himself. It’s also great for analyzing people. He likes to think he picks up on more stuff than most people do. The small facial expressions, body language, tone of voice, things like that. It helps him understand people. Why they act or react a certain way, how they might be feeling. It informs him how he should behave.
That all went out the window with Isabella. He had absolutely no clue what to make out of her lately or how to act around her, for that matter. Has he watched way too many rom-coms with her? Was he seeing signs where there's not any? Was it all fueled by his own hopeless desires? Will it inevitably end in rejection and heartbreak? No matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't come up with answers.
Isabella has always been a great friend to everyone. Caring, loving, supportive, and so on. But he’d been noticing little things; signals he can't quite decode.
For starters, he can’t remember Isabella ever hand-feeding anyone. (Besides Perry or Pinky, but obviously pets don’t count. One time she scored a few popcorn kernels inside Buford’s mouth, but it’s Buford. Kinda doesn’t count either.) Her feeding him cotton candy was totally a friendly, playful gesture he was reading into way too much. Friends can do that. But—of course there’s a but—there’s other stuff too.
Like how all semester Isabella went out of her way to text Ferb on a regular basis, even at school. He always replied, so their text thread was getting pretty long. (He's never deleting those messages, he has backups for the backups.) And as far as Ferb knows, his other friends didn't usually get that same treatment. Ferb has only seen Phineas get the occasional text from her when they shared classes. While Ferb got texts on the daily, sometimes even more than once a day.
Isabella always seemed to find him in the hallways, too. Despite the fact that her classes were not exactly in that same path. (Ferb memorized her schedule when everyone shared theirs in the group chat.) He asked her about it one time and Isabella brushed it off. Said she knew his schedule, and she might as well bump in for a quick hello. She also mumbled something about being sad that they were not all in the same class anymore, so he didn't think too much about it back then. (He was certainly overthinking it now.)
She also attended all of Ferb's soccer games without fault. He had initially thought it was to sit with Phineas at the bleachers. But Phineas usually attended all of Buford's football games, too. Baljeet as well. And Isabella didn't show up to all of those. Yet she hadn't missed a single soccer match. Something was not adding up to his initial rationale.
Another thing that stood out to him is that Isabella changed her 'What’cha doin’' catchphrase to include Ferb too. She did this a couple years ago, but back then Ferb attributed it to her being a good friend, since the two of them became closer. But now he was seeing a pattern of Isabella trying to include him and seeking him out specifically. Which could mean nothing.
So, was she just being a great friend or did it mean something more? Or was he making it all up in his head? It's like he had the puzzle pieces sprawled in front of him, but he could never make them fit in the right place.
There's also the matter of the lingering gazes, the thing that makes the least sense of it all. Ferb often caught Isabella looking his way, but whenever he was right next to his brother he assumed she was looking at Phineas. It didn't explain why she was looking at him all the times Ferb wasn't beside Phineas, though. Sometimes she looked the opposite way, a tad startled at being caught staring. Other times she held her gaze, and she looked like she wanted to say something. But then the moment passed and she never said a thing. Whatever she wanted to say, it’s like she thought better of it and bit her tongue.
Ferb knew the feeling. He'd rather shut up than ruining everything by running his mouth. Some things are better left unsaid. That's why he wrote letters by hand with all his stupid feelings. Well, he tried to write them. He was never able to find the right words; it’s not one of his strengths. So the letters always wound up in the trash can, with the words crossed out and the paper crushed into a ball.
It’s useless. He can make a thousand blueprints for inventions the vast majority of people would only imagine in their wildest dreams, then he can make it real. Ferb is good with numbers. He can solve equations, figure out the logistics and the physics needed to make the engineering happen. Yet he can’t form a cohesive sentence to tell a girl how he feels about her. Ferb didn't intend to give Isabella the letter anyway, he could just keep it to himself. But he can't even write his own feelings properly.
From a logical stance, Ferb knows there’s no point in writing a letter that's never meant to be sent. It’s just a poor attempt at expressing his feelings, giving them an outlet instead of letting them eat him from the inside out. Needless to say, it wasn't going very well.
Ferb knows his feelings, so he wants to vocalize them in a way that doesn't actually require him to say it out loud. But he sabotaged all attempts, because he knew it would make his love too real. Almost tangible, having them on paper. It was easier to pretend there’s nothing there if he kept those thoughts in the back burner of his mind. As if that would make his heart beat at a normal pace and erase all trace of her. It's a shame it doesn’t work that way.
Besides, what would he even do with the letter? Hide it? What if someone were to find it? His heart known, put on display through pen and paper. Not a good idea. Deep down, what he dreaded most is the possibility of rejection. So if he didn't let it become a possibility, there was nothing to fear, right?
His heart wanted more. Nonetheless, he couldn't possibly ask for it. And asking for it could ruin the friendship he currently had—not only with her, but also with his own brother. Hell, maybe he'd even tear his whole friend group apart.
He felt like a bad friend to her, for wanting her when she didn't feel that way. And he felt like an awful brother to Phineas. The guy had to be in love with her too, he was just too distracted to notice. But Ferb couldn't stop feeling like this. Not when Isabella’s eyes lit up with the prettiest glow. Ferb had made peace long ago with the fact that her heart eyes were not directed at him, and they never will be. And if anything were to dim that glow, he wouldn’t be able to stand it, especially if he happened to be the reason. No, he could never tell her. It’d make her uncomfortable, things would change for the worst, she’d never look at him the same way…
Despite his resolve of not pursuing his feelings, hope has reignited in his chest like sparks of molten metal. He wanted Isabella to look at him—really look at him—with heart eyes and an unspoken anticipation in the curve of her smile. Not the same look she gave everybody, but the look and the greeting that’s always been reserved for the one she loved.
And he felt absolutely selfish for wanting that, for even hoping that it could be in the realm of possibility. He should not want that. What a prick. Who does he think he is for wanting to steal her away when her heart belongs to someone else? He can’t do that. He can’t be a homewrecker in his own home, no thank you.
Isabella loved Phineas, and Phineas loved Isabella, even if he’s too air-headed to notice it yet. End of story, roll credits.
Ferb didn't enter into this equation. The only meddling he’ll do is send them to each other’s way, if the situation allows it. Isabella wants to go to the movies? He’ll make himself scarce. Phineas brings up anything love related? He’ll point to Isabella’s way, so maybe Phineas will finally connect the dots.
He should eradicate these feelings. Wipe away all the thoughts that aren't platonic about her. And stop the beat of his heart that drums along to her song, because they're playing different tunes. Her melody wasn't for him.
Yet Ferb can’t bring himself to do it. He has tried before. It’s helpless. How could he get over her when every time she comes into a room, she lights it up like a star? When no one else has adequately tended to her glow? When her heart is too big for her frame and she’s desperate to give her love to someone who doesn’t give it back, all the while he’s right here waiting?
It’s cruel having her so close, yet being unable to lessen the distance. Not allowed to reach out and touch the starlight, because he’d crash back down to earth and burn alone on the long way down.
All feelings should be left behind, letters burned to ashes, all hope squandered. Maybe it’s the right thing to do. But even if part of him wanted to let go and extinguish the flames for good, the heart still wants what it wants.
Since the last couple of days, now Ferb was not so sure he should. He’s not certain if that’s the right course of action. What if—big hypothetical if—he wasn’t the only one with these feelings? But what if instead of stamping out the flames, he should add fuel to the fire?
Isabella and Phineas have had a thousand chances to get together, and they haven’t. Not only because his brother is slow-witted when it comes to romance, but also because Isabella hadn't exactly shown interest as of late.
Years ago, when they were kids and her crush on Phineas was intense, she was always grateful when Ferb would send her to Phineas’ way, and remove himself from the situation. Recently, when he’d done this, Isabella didn't precisely look grateful. No, lately, she often looked resigned. Like she wanted to protest, but couldn't refuse. Sometimes she did actually find an excuse to refuse. Ferb had attributed it to her being discouraged by the lack of progress in the love department, but what if he'd been wrong?
Isabella clearly liked spending time with and talking to Phineas, but when was the last time he saw her heart eyes aimed at his brother? It'd been ages ago. He couldn't even remember well when. Ferb had assumed Isabella just got better at hiding her crush over time, but—crazy theory in progress—what if there’s no such thing anymore?
Were all of these little things signals he didn’t pick up on? Had he been using a different key to decode a cipher, leading him to interpret the entire thing incorrectly?
Insane thought, but… what if Isabella reciprocated his feelings?
The alarm blared with loud beeps. Ferb quickly reached to turn it off. The noise startled him out of his thoughts like a literal wake up call.
Perry, who’d been sleeping by his feet, didn’t seem to like the sudden movement, so the platypus ran off to Phineas’ bed. His brother stirred, awoken by Perry nuzzling by his hand rather than by the alarm that only beeped twice.
Ferb rubbed his eyes, in an effort to pretend he just woke up as well and hide the fact that he spent a ridiculous amount of precious morning sleep staring at the ceiling and pondering about impossible things he shouldn’t dream about.
He cleared his throat. “Morning, Phineas."
“Morning, Ferb,” his brother echoed. “Morning, Perry. We already know what we’re gonna do today!”
Phineas’ enthusiasm was contagious. It took Ferb out of his bummed-out-yet-hopeful mood.
The brothers adjusted comfortably to their morning routine, the same one as every summer. Phineas hit the shower first, while Ferb got to work on the blueprints for today’s invention. Since they’d come up with the idea yesterday, it was mostly revising what they made last night, plus adding a few final touches. If Ferb always focused particularly on making sure it would cater to Isabella’s tastes and enjoyment, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.
When Phineas got out of the bathroom, the brothers swapped places. Phineas got on the desk, ready to place the lightning-flash order for today's materials, while Ferb showered. It was a good system.
At breakfast, Candace asked, "What are you boys doing today?"
"Mario Kart circuit," Phineas replied between a spoonful of cereal.
"Oh, so you're just gonna play video games? Nothing to bust today!" she hollered. "I'm gonna have a bust-less, peaceful Candace day. See you later, family!"
"Bye, sweetie," Lawrence said.
"Have fun," Linda added.
Phineas didn't even get a chance to correct that they were, in fact, gonna build a Mario Kart circuit, not play the game on the Switch. But Candace was out the door before Phineas could swallow his food. Ferb thought it was better off this way. Their parents left as well not long after.
Half an hour later, they were in the backyard receiving the shipment Phineas had ordered. Then came Buford and Baljeet. And then Isabella, radiant as ever.
"I'd ask what'cha doin', but I already know!"
Isabella flashed them a smile between the chorus of greetings. And was it Ferb's imagination, or was her gaze lingering on him?
Before he could dwell on this, Phineas called out, "Isabella! You're on wrench duty."
She turned to look at Phineas and saluted. "On it."
It wasn't in Ferb's head; Isabella had been looking at him.
"Buford, you're in—"
"Hammer!" the guy in question interrupted.
"Yes, hammer duty. Baljeet, you're on anti-gravity duty."
"Ohh, we're going to race on the walls and ceiling?" Baljeet asked.
Ferb nodded in affirmation.
"We can't do a Mario Kart circuit without upside down tracks," Phineas remarked.
"Woo-hoo!" Isabella cheered. "Can my car be pink?"
"Ferb's got you covered," Phineas said as he put a hand on Ferb's shoulder. Odd thing to say, but okay.
Ferb showed Isabella the blueprints for the cars. Isabella seemed very pleased with the design, if her wide smile was anything to go by. It was the typical princess Peach shade of pink, but with the big wheels it looked more like a monster truck. The symbol on the front, instead of a crown, was Isabella's pink bow. (Yes, he'd put extra effort in her car, sue him.)
Buford, on the other hand, asked if his car could have spikes on the side. Phineas was quick to shut that idea down, and cue the music and the building montage.
In front of them, stood an enormous race circuit. It was so tall it reached the clouds. The paved paths were cement, to give it a classic race look. But the upside down parts of the track were colorful, similar to the rainbow road.
The track was full of sharp curves and they added quite a few speed boost pads. Much to Buford's dismay, Phineas and Ferb designed the track so that they couldn't fall off from it. A mechanism for picking up fallen racers was plausible, but impractical and time consuming to design in real life. So instead, like the smart steering feature in the game, they built the edges of the track and the wheels with a magnetic system that would keep the cars on the road. Hitting the edges would slow the racer down a bit, but it would never let them plummet down to certain doom.
At the starting line, the five cars were lined up. Isabella's pink car was parked next to Phineas' red car, Ferb's was green, Buford's was black and Baljeet's blue. He hadn't designed logos for the rest of the cars, but Buford spray painted a skull on his anyway. They all changed into their racing suits, each one matching the color of their cars—except Isabella.
Isabella sported a purple racing suit. Ferb almost tripped on his own two feet. She looked so pretty it knocked the air right out of his lungs. And it wasn't helping his overthinking.
Isabella was known to wear purple on occasion, but everyone knew it was Ferb's signature color. Did she… could it be that she did that intentionally? Or was he grasping at straws?
"You look great, Isa," Phineas said. "Purple looks good on you."
Did Ferb just see Phineas wink? Oh no, no, no, no. This was the absolute worst time for Phineas to start noticing Isabella. Not when Ferb felt almost ready to get on his knees and beg. (Not as a marriage proposal or anything of the sort; he'd be on his knees because he tripped and fell.)
"Thank you, Phineas," Isabella replied. Her demeanor was sheepish and her cheeks a little pink. But she didn't seem happy by the compliment, it was more like she was embarrassed that Phineas said that.
Ferb wanted to compliment her too, but the words died in his throat. If he tried to speak up, he was afraid he'd only made a disgruntled sound. So he remained quiet. He was taken aback when Isabella addressed him directly.
"Ferb, you look—um, green suits you. It matches your hair nicely."
Why was she saying this to him? Phineas was also wearing the same color as his hair. Was Ferb getting special attention? Well, it was only fair to reciprocate, right?
"Thanks," he managed to voice out. "You look b—you look very nice in purple."
He almost slipped, but it was a decent save. That's not what he wanted to say at all, but he couldn't say too much either.
Isabella smiled and her eyes lit up. "Thanks."
Ferb basked in that familiar glow that drove him insane. He didn't enjoy it for long, because he felt like all eyes were on him. (It was only Isabella's and Phineas', but still.) Ferb could see from the corner of his eye that his brother was watching them, paying great attention. He had to look away to compose himself before he said or did something stupid.
Baljeet and Buford were arguing a few feet away about Buford's improper wear of the racing suit, as per Baljeet's words that Ferb could make out from here. Buford was only wearing the racing suit in his lower half. In the upper half, he donned a white tank top.
"It will be distracting! Cover them up," Baljeet said, gesturing to Buford's bulky arms. Distracting to who exactly, Ferb wasn't sure.
"The summer sun is hot," Buford complained. Ferb couldn't discern the hushed words exchanged after that.
"Should we get started?" Ferb asked, trying to steer back their own conversation.
"Yeah, let me just…" Isabella stepped closer and reached for his collar. She fixed a loose strap. Ferb held his breath. "There."
For a split second, his mind replayed all the scenarios he'd made up in his head in which Isabella leaned closer and kissed him. That's not what happened just now—not even close. But his chest was doing somersaults either way, like he was already speeding up in the track.
Isabella turned to head to the starting line, which was good, because Ferb stood frozen like a statue a few seconds too long. Phineas noticed, but he only said, "Hey, where's Perry?"
Ferb shrugged and hoped his brother was as imperceptive as ever.
Baljeet had managed to make Buford wear the racing suit in his upper body, but he did not accomplish it entirely. Buford had ripped off the sleeves. Baljeet looked defeated, but somewhat pleased at the same time.
"Okay, everybody, on your marks," Phineas called out over his shoulder.
Buford ran to his car like his life depended on it. "What does the winner get, by the way?"
"Uh, winning?" Baljeet supplied.
"No trophy cup?" Buford asked dejectedly.
"You're such a child," Isabella mocked, nodding in disapproval.
"You're the one who suggested we use helmets!" Buford shot back. "Even though there's a baby feature so that I can't knock you off the track!"
"Yeah, safety first!" Phineas said.
"Also, we do not trust you!" Baljeet added.
Buford couldn't, in fact, knock anyone off from the track. But that didn't stop him from trying. As it turns out, for Buford every car is a bumper car. This strategy didn't prove optimal for getting first place, though. Trying to bump everyone also slowed Buford down.
Early on in the race, Isabella bumped Buford once to get him out of her hair, leaving him to eat dust. So she took the lead for most of the race, only losing it temporarily. Isabella was very good at handling the curves, she used them to her advantage to accelerate. And she hit every single speed boost pad, even the tricky ones. She could be an actual race pilot if she wanted, which is unsurprising. It's Isabella. She can do anything.
The rest of the group raced in a friendlier manner than Buford, but they were in spirit just as competitive as him. A couple bumps here and there to overtake the car in front, sometimes even making them get stuck in a couple curves. Baljeet, Phineas and Ferb constantly fought for the second spot. Ferb only managed to lead in second place for all of twelve seconds before Phineas surpassed him, but he wasn't too hung up on it.
To no one's surprise, Isabella won the race in first place, with what Ferb calculated was at least a twenty second advantage. Phineas got in second, Ferb in third, Baljeet in fourth (just two seconds right behind him), and Buford in fifth place. Buford didn't seem to mind getting last place, though.
As soon as everyone had crossed the finish line for the third lapse, Buford got out of the car and headed straight to Isabella. He lifted her up on his shoulders, basically shaking her around. Buford was hollering, Isabella was shrieking. She wasn't threatening to leave Buford without offspring, however, so Ferb got in there to help lift her up steadily over both of their shoulders. Phineas snapped a picture of them with his phone of that winning celebratory pose.
After everyone congratulated her and cheered for her some more, Isabella pleaded, "Okay now, you can put me down."
Buford lowered her down with way more finesse than what he raised her up with. "There, now you can stop screaming."
Isabella seemed woozy on her feet. On instinct, Ferb offered his arm for support. She grabbed him by the upper arm to steady herself, then she casually rested her elbow on his shoulder. If his ears were red, maybe he could blame it on the exertion and the scorching sun.
"You flung me around like a sack of potatoes!" Isabella complained, pointing an accusatory finger at Buford. "But I have to say, if you had more… tact," she huffed out, "you'd be a great cheerleader, Buford."
"Thank you," Buford replied. "But no thanks."
"We might have overlooked the trophy cup," Phineas chimed in, "but how about a cup of… something cold?" He swatted his hand to fan himself. Everyone was sweating, it'd been hot inside the race cars.
"Wouldn't it be in a glass?" Baljeet questioned.
"Shh, don't ruin my moment," Isabella interjected. "But yeah, let's get inside."
Fifteen minutes later, their cups—Phineas had insisted on cups for humor's sake—of freshly squeezed lemonade were empty. The tranquility that had settled on the living room was interrupted when Candace entered the house and saw the track in the backyard. Her bags fell to the floor with a thud, but nothing sounded broken.
"You built the race circuit," she hissed. "Of course. I should've seen that one coming. Mom!"
Candace ran back outside to call her, presumably. The teenagers paid Candace no mind and kept playing snakes and ladders, throwing dice.
A couple minutes later, Linda was parking the car in the driveway and when Ferb turned to look through the sliding glass doors, the circuit had disappeared.
"But but but but but—" Candace wailed. "It was beamed off to space!"
Huh. So, colorful race track in space, like the rainbow road. Good to know. Ferb hoped the aliens would make good use of the circuit.
"Oh, there you are, Perry," Phineas said. Perry had finally shown up again and was now curled up on the couch.
"Gyururururururu," Perry chattered.
"Your turn, Baljeet," Isabella said as she handed him the dice.
"Hey," Phineas started. "Maybe we could make—"
Ferb saw the glint in his brother's eyes at the board game. Knowing where this was going, he cut him off. "No."
"Don't even think about it," Isabella deadpanned, having read his thoughts too.
"Ah, fine. We'll find something else to do tomorrow."
"Yes. Yes, we will," Ferb agreed.